


No Place Like Home

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Family time, Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This year marks the first Christmas where nobody’s dead, or evil, or missing and gosh darnit!, Dick is not going to miss it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Place Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> One of the prompts I wrote for the Batfam Christmas Exchange.
> 
> Prompt was "Dick is badly injured or gets sick while on patrol on Christmas Eve and the Batfamily has to take care of him."

The Christmas season was always a busy one in Gotham. Last-minute shoppers rushed about looking for presents, shelters and churches opened up for anyone who needed a safe place, and every major criminal in Gotham seemed intent on giving the gift of turmoil to the city.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

They’d made it to the last patrol of the night, the bone-chilling time just before morning where only the most desperate or stupid of people were out. Dick wasn’t too sure exactly which category they fit into. As he landed a last punch on a mugger, the cough that had been plaguing him all night finally settled into his chest, bringing up deep, painful coughs with each breath. He leaned against the wall of the alley for support.

A tiny scoff came from behind him as his junior partner tied up the mugger. “Nightwing, what’s wrong with you? I’m going to tell Father you clearly can’t handle the elements like a true–” Damian was cut off by a particularly hard and wet cough. “Ew, that’s gross.”

“Love you, too, kid,” Dick managed to choke out, barely getting his breath back. “C’mon. Let’s get home before–” He started coughing again, louder and deeper each time. He clutched at his chest and staggered forward, only making two steps before collapsing onto Damian.

“Nightwing? Nightwing, get off!” Damian grunted, trying to roll his brother off of him. “You’re heavy!” With a strong push, Dick flopped to the ground and Damian scrabbled to his feet. “Come on, then. We don’t have time for your dramatics.”

Dick just laid there in the snow, his shallow breathing only interrupted by small coughs.

Damian leaned forward. “Nightwing?” He took off a glove and touched his fingers to Dick’s forehead when the older man didn’t respond. “Grayson?” He pulled back his hand and stared, wide-eyed; Grayson was too warm. Damian put his glove on and tapped his comm. “Father! Something wrong with Nightwing!”

 ---------------

Dick had come in and out of consciousness over the next hour, catching glimpses of Batman standing over him in the snow; of being in a too-small space with someone talking to him in a young voice; of being carried up stairs without his suit, his bare toes curling and stretching in the air; and of being put into someplace soft, but too hot and too constricting. The next time he opened his eyes, he was more awake than he had been before.

“B-Bruce?”

The older man was at his side instantly, still in his compression suit. “You’re all right, Dick. You’re home. Alfred says you have the flu.”

“Oh. That’s what it is.” He coughed once, which turned into a bad fit before Bruce pulled him up to a sitting position so he could catch his breath. “What time is it?”

“Still late. Or too early to be up.”

Dick frowned. “Still Christmas Eve?”

Bruce cocked his head. “Well, not technically, but...” He mirrored Dick’s expression as Dick frowned harder. “What’s wrong?”

“First full family Christmas,” he whispered, not daring to raise his voice any more for fear of another coughing attack. “I don’t wanna miss it.”

Bruce rubbed his back. “You need to rest. We’ll still be here.”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same!” That earned him a light coughing fit.

Bruce pressed his lips together and stroked Dick’s hair. “Then I’ll figure something out, alright? But you’ve got to rest. Don’t make me get Alfred in here to sedate you.”

Dick pouted, but tucked himself under the covers again. “Tell everyone they have to come see me if I’m not up by morning, OK?”

“OK. They will.”

Dick was aware of Bruce’s hand holding his until he fell asleep, and then there was nothing but the stillness of a dreamless sleep.

 ---------------

Talking.

That was all he could hear around him. Dick couldn’t make out any distinct words, but there were several voices around him, he knew that much. A couple of them sounded angry, one was particularly quiet, and then another, deeper, made them all stop. He slowly opened his eyes.

“You’re going to wake him up if you’re so loud.”

“Todd started it!”

“I did not you little shi–ipwreck.”

“I don’t care who started it, I’m stopping it now.”

“B-Bruce?” They all turned toward Dick, a few of them moving to gather around him. “What’s going on?”

Bruce gestured at the tree behind them. “It’s morning. You didn’t want to miss it.”

Dick sat up with the help of Cass, who had silently curled up against him like a cat, and looked around. Somehow, without waking him, they had brought down his bed to the main family room where the morning celebration was set up. “Aww, really? You didn’t have to....”

“-tt- See? He even said it himself!” Damian scowled, crossing his arms a little too forcefully. “You always require such a fuss, Grayson, and then say you didn’t want it.”

Dick chuckled softly. “Fine. Then you absolutely did have to, and you’ve managed to stave off my wrath for another day. Better?”

“You’re so weird, Grayson.”

Dick shook his head and coughed, but it wasn’t as hard as before. He looked around at the others. Alfred stood off to the side, laying out a small breakfast for them. Tim was curled up on the couch closest to Dick. Bruce had settled back down in the big armchair by the fireplace (his father’s chair, one he’d only started sitting in a year ago, when Damian joined them), and Damian sat in the chair opposite him, trying to look imperious in the too-large seat. Cass was still curled up next to him on the bed, clearly not worried about getting sick as she wrapped the blankets around them both. And over in the far corner, looking almost petulantly nonchalant, was Jason.

“You really did make it.”

Jason shrugged. “Yeah, well, I mean, I can take a day off, too, y’know.”

Dick glanced over at Alfred, who simply smiled and addressed the family. “Coffee, tea, and cocoa are ready and hot, as is breakfast, and I suggest you honor me with my first present of getting it yourselves.”

Dick laughed and started to get up for it before Cass pushed him down with a quiet, “Stay.” As they all fetched their own breakfast and settled back down in their various spots– although Dick thought Jason had moved his chair a bit closer to the others– the clock chimed noon.

“Merry Christmas, everyone,” he said, lifting his tea in a toast.

“Merry Christmas, Dick,” Bruce replied, echoed by the others. He took a long drink and set his cup down in his saucer. “Well. First one to finish breakfast gets the first present.”

The kids all exchanged a glance and dug in, eating as fast as they could. Alfred and Bruce shared a smile. It had been a long time since the Manor had been filled and happy on Christmas. Perhaps this time wouldn’t be the last.


End file.
